


Yeah, This is "Big Fun"

by abrasivelysilentnoisemaker



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Common Cold, Illnesses, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 15:01:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8895802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abrasivelysilentnoisemaker/pseuds/abrasivelysilentnoisemaker
Summary: Kurt is sick. Ram comes over to help. Kind of.





	

Whistling to himself, Ram strode up the steps to Kurt’s house and rapped his knuckles smartly against the door. Shifting his weight, he tightened his grip on his backpack—although he (and Kurt) weren’t known for being the most…studious of people, Kurt had been out sick for the past few days and Ram had been assigned the menial task of making a vague attempt at being responsible. As if.

Ram was just raising his hand to knock again—damn, was it cold outside—when the door swung open. In front of him was a girl, around thirteen, with a scowl on her face.

“It’s you,” Elly said flatly.

“It’s good to see you, too, short stuff,” Ram responded cheerfully as he walked in, ruffling her hair as he passed her. Ignoring her whines, he toed off his shoes and left them by the pile of sneakers, then padded down the hall to the last room on the left. Barely giving Kurt a chance to respond after knocking, he entered the room.

Kurt was curled up in a messy pile of blankets on his bed. The boy wasn’t much cleaner himself, with brown hair sticking up every which way and stubble littering a flushed face. It didn’t look like he had slept well (or much) since Ram had seen him last, given the dark circles pressed like thumbprints beneath his eyes. Speaking of which…

“Sleeping, huh?” Ram murmured, setting his bag down carefully by the desk before shuffling to the bed and leaning closer. “Kurt?” Getting no response except a drowsy grunt, Ram chuckled quietly and retreated back towards the desk. Settling on the floor—the desk chair was sacred space, damn it—he leaned back against the desk and weighed his options. He could wake Kurt up, but that was a bad idea. Probably. Eyeing the bag briefly, he scoffed and shook his head. Nah. Homework could wait.

Exhaling quietly, Ram looked towards his best bud. He was curled awkwardly on his side, arms and knees tucked up towards his chest. For once, he was actually wearing a shirt to sleep. Ram felt a flicker of disappointment in his gut before squashing it down. Why the hell would he be disappointed about that? It had to be because his best bud felt like shit. Yeah.

Ram found his eyes roaming up from Kurt’s chest to his broad shoulders, to his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as he swallowed, to his rosy cheeks. His lips were red as well, just barely open. Dimly, Ram was aware that Kurt probably had to breathe through his mouth because of whatever he was inflicted with—a cold? Probably—but his attention was drawn to the thin string of drool spilling from between his lips and onto his pillow.

Man, what he wouldn’t give to have those lips around—

Sudden coughing startled Ram from that train of thought—thank God—leaving him sitting upright, eyes wide, watching as Kurt dragged himself up enough to lean on his arm, his free hand coming up in front of his mouth as he basically hacked up his lungs. Before he could stop himself, Ram was up and over to the bed, carefully pulling Kurt up into a more upright position and pressing a steady hand against his back. “Easy,” he murmured.

The coughing went on for another minute or so—to Ram it seemed like an eternity, or at least as how long his English class seemed to drag on (when he even went)—before slowing. Kurt coughed one final time, bringing his hand up to gingerly rub his throat. “Fuck,” he said, his voice raspy.

Ram cringed; it sounded like it hurt to talk. “You okay?” he asked.

“Does it look like I’m okay?” Kurt snapped, wincing. Quieter, he added, “I feel like shit.”

“You look like it,” Ram commented. He didn’t miss the hurt that flashed across Kurt’s face before it fell into something more neutral. Before he could question it, Kurt had shrugged his hand off his back and stretched back out.

Kurt’s eyes were half closed as he rolled his head to actually look at Ram. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh, I wanted to see my best bro?” As an afterthought, he added, “I also brought your homework.”

“I’m not up to jacking around today,” Kurt mumbled as he shifted on his side. “Or homework.” After a moment, he mumbled something under his breath, but Ram couldn’t quite hear it. Gentler than he normally would be, he urged Kurt to repeat himself. A scowl fixed itself on Kurt’s face. “Why the fuck do you care?”

Only mildly unnerved by the extreme salt in Kurt’s voice (Ram knew Kurt tended to get moody when he got sick), Ram sighed, reached over, and brushed Kurt’s bangs away from his face. “Dude, I care about you.”

“Dude, that’s fucking gay.” Kurt roughly swiped Ram’s hand away, the movement shoving him right into another round of coughing. Ram sighed, watching as Kurt curled into himself. _Dammit, Kurt, fucking chill_. He repeated his thought out loud, grinning to himself as Kurt’s scowl morphed into something akin to a pout. _God, he’s cute_. Not that he would admit that to Kurt. Never. Even though he really wanted to. _I don’t know what I would do if Kurt hated my guts. For real. Not like that one time freshman year…_ Before he could even think of going down that train of thought, Kurt was speaking again. Ram listened as Kurt told him he could leave, should leave, before he got him sick, before he got bored, before, before, before.

Ram only half-listened, waiting for him to finish, before nonchalantly ruffling his hair. “No can do, sport, you’re stuck with my sorry ass.” When Kurt looked like he was going to protest, Ram shushed him with a finger to his lips. Chuckling quietly at the confused look on his face, Ram said, “Dude, we go through this every time you’re fuckin’ sick. Get it through your skull that I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

Kurt seemed to positively _wilt_ at the rather weak reprimand, moving on from his former salty self to something almost…puppy-like. Ram knew when Kurt was giving in, and now was one of those times. Rather early, though, for even his standards. Brushing aside the vague sense of worry— _he’ll be fine_ —Ram lightly tugged the blanket back up over Kurt’s shoulders. “Go back to sleep, nerd.”

“You’re the nerd, nerd.” There was no fight left in Kurt as he settled back down into his little nest on the bed. Ram watched as Kurt’s eyes drifted closed, watched as his breathing slowly evened out—at least, as even as it could be at this point—, watched as he returned to sleep as though he had never woken up in the first place. Ram waited for a few minutes before standing. Hesitating, he leaned down and brushed his lips against Kurt’s forehead. Then he returned to where he had been sitting on the floor, pulled his backpack toward him, and begrudgingly started his homework.

He was almost finished with his English homework—man, what he wouldn’t give to party in someone’s basement with some wine—when a noise from the bed caught his attention. Glancing up, he frowned at the sight. Kurt didn’t look much different from when Ram had first arrived, but he looked downright pitiful, from the way his face was twisted, jaw clenched tight, his breathing ragged. “Fuck,” Ram breathed before scrambling up and over to the bed. “Kurt, dude, buddy, wake up, c’mon,” he said, gently shaking his shoulder. _Damn, I forgot about the nightmares_. Since they’d been little, Kurt had always been susceptible to night terrors. As they grew older, they stopped coming quite as frequently, but Ram supposed it made sense that they would come again when Kurt was in such a vulnerable state. He almost laughed at the thought. _Kurt, vulnerable?_

Brushing any amusement aside, he shook Kurt’s shoulder again. “Kurt. Kurt!” Kurt woke with a start, taking a deep, rattling breath, immediately trying to push himself up on spaghetti-like arms. Moving on instinct, Ram supported him like he had before and let him lean against him. Careful, he wrapped an arm around Kurt to keep him steady and whispered whatever quiet, soothing things came to mind. Anything to calm the shaking boy in his arms.

“It’s okay.”

“I’m here.”

“I’ve got you.”

The seconds dragged on into minutes as Kurt slowly but steadily calmed down, give or take a couple of breaks to cough up some internal organs. He remained slumped against Ram, his breathing still coming out in broken chunks. Worried, Ram rubbed his hand slowly across the expanse of Kurt’s back, hoping to ease, well, something. “Kurt?” Near dead eyes, swirling with exhaustion and fear, met his as Kurt lifted his head enough to look up at him. It had been awhile since Ram had seen Kurt like this, and he damn well sure didn’t like it any better now. Frowning a little when he didn’t get any further response, Ram raised his other hand and lightly flicked Kurt’s cheek. “C’mon, dude, talk to me.”

“You died.”

“Huh?”

Shrugging, Kurt swallowed and looked away. Ram figured he was struggling to put words together—after all, he did just wake up—but when Kurt didn’t appear to be going to say anything else, Ram asked, “You wanna tell me more than that?”

There was silence for nearly thirty seconds, making Ram uneasy, before Kurt suddenly blurted. “Right through the throat. You were shot, right through the fuckin’ throat, Ram, and I was right there, and…” Kurt trailed off, his body tensing up. Ram swallowed, furrowing his brow.

“H-hey, it’s okay. It was just a dream—”

“But what if someday it isn’t just a dream?” Kurt burst out, louder than he had been the entire time Ram had been there. “What if someday, we were, like, together, y’know, _together_ together, and somebody didn’t like that, and decided to just. Boom. One less fag in the world. Two less fags in the world.” Kurt swallowed, pressing his lips together tightly, before forging on. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Ram’s stomach dropped into the pit of his stomach. _Oh no. Oh boy. What the hell is going on?_ As he tried to process what was just said, he watched as Kurt’s face shift from one kind of terror into another. Anticipating that Kurt would try to yank himself away, Ram tightened his grip around him as he tried to do just that. “Kurt—”

“Forget I said anything.” Kurt’s voice rose in panic as he pulled weakly against Ram. “I didn’t mean anything by it, it was a joke, it—” His words were cut off as Ram turned his face towards his and kissed him. It was a clumsy kiss—it was an awkward angle, and Ram wasn’t used to kissing someone close to his height—but Ram thought it was nice. Keeping it short and simple, he slowly pulled away, trying to gauge Kurt’s reaction. He almost laughed; Kurt looked like a fish out of water.

Shaking his head, Ram gently pulled Kurt’s head onto his shoulder. “It’s fine. At least with me.” Sensing that Kurt was about to protest again, he added, “Look, we can…not talk about it right now. Talk later, when you’re feelin’ better. Sound good?” Kurt nodded slowly. Grinning crookedly, Ram held a fist out. “Punch it in.”

“Punch it in,” Kurt echoed, tapping his own fist against Ram’s. They both watched their hands for a moment before looking at each other.

Chewing his lip for a moment, Ram slowly pulled his arm away from Kurt. “Do you…do you want to watch a movie or something?” He didn’t figure Kurt was ready to go back to sleep, no matter how exhausted he looked.

“Uh. Yeah.” Kurt nodded twice, then glanced over at the television set up facing his bed. “Just…uh, pick what you want.” He ducked his head into the crook of his arm and coughed. Waiting to make sure he was done and not going to, like, die or something before moving, Ram got up and padded towards the selection of movies on the shelf. After getting it started, he returned to the bed. He glanced at Kurt uncertainly, unsure of whether sitting with him again was okay. _Does he want space if we’re not gonna talk? Is it okay? What does he want?_

Gaze fixed on the t.v., Kurt shifted over so there was enough room for Ram to sit next to him. Relieved, Ram settled next to his friend, leaning back against the headboard. A few minutes into the movie, Ram felt Kurt shifting around again. Before he could look over to see what he was doing, he felt Kurt lean against him, his head resting on his shoulder. When Kurt’s hand brushed up against his, Ram smiled faintly and took it in his own, giving it a gentle squeeze. With that, Kurt slowly relaxed against him.

As the movie wore on, Ram became dimly aware that Kurt had fallen asleep for a third time. Careful not to jostle him, Ram turned his head and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Sweet dreams, nerd.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a slut for sick fics
> 
> Come yell with me about Kurt and Ram at abrasivelysilentnoisemaker.tumblr.com


End file.
